Night is gathering in,
The street has fallen into silence.
The pavement is getting crowded
And beggars are retiring to sleep.
They are falling into place,
What is their commonplace dream?
A square meal is their only vision,
A barking dog is their only companion.
To them all worshipping places are alike,
To them no god is different.
To them, our political war has no sense,
To them, this world is an open stage.
Beyond the stone pavements of the temples,
Beyond the gates of mosques and churches,
Their dreams do not reach,
Their arms do not stretch.
A mosque is fallen, a church broken,
A temple is blown - so what? any loss?
For them, no fuss, and no more a disaster,
For them, only the tinkling coins matter, make a stir.
05/12/2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem